Chosen
by hmmga
Summary: In a world where Neville is believed to be the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter has to find his own way when the tables turn, and he has to face his true destiny. AU. COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

**Prologue- In Times Now Gone**

_It was a cold, windy day in November, and Voldemort had disappeared overnight. Naturally, many in the wizarding world were inclined to celebrate, but Albus Dumbledore was too busy. He sat in the St Mungo's lobby, waiting…_

"_Albus,"_

_Minerva McGonagall had arrived, and was hurrying towards him, her face lined with worry. She gripped his wrist tightly. "What in Merlin's name has been going on? I've heard all sorts of stories."_

"_I should think so. What are they saying now?"_

"_That- that the Longbottoms…" she broke off. "They say they were attacked last night, and that Frank…"_

_Albus nodded gravely. "I'm afraid so. They caught their secret keeper, forced the truth out of her, then killed her in cold blood." He sighed. "Nobody's really sure what happened, but prior incantato told us that Frank fired the killing curse at Voldemort, in desperation, probably. Perhaps he got lucky."_

"_But if he-"_

"_Frank didn't die at the scene. There was an explosion, and he was badly injured."_

"_How's Alice coping? And Neville? Poor boy, he's only seven."_

_Albus just shook his head. On a nearby chair, he caught another glimpse of the headline that had been haunting him all morning._

"_He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Gone At Last!" _

Albus Dumbledore had seen so many students be sorted, their faces often blurred with those of their relatives. This year was no different.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

The girl with blonde pigtails looked ridiculously like her grandmother, and was probably a perfect replica of every female Abbott there had ever been.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Of course, that much had been obvious. And she wouldn't have to wait long for a companion…

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The names came and went, but soon a vaguely familiar one stuck out.

"Fiasco, Marc!"

Albus sat upright, surveying the boy who was walking on trembling legs up to the stool. The poor boy had no real choice, considering who his parents were…

"RAVENCLAW!"

Albus felt his eyebrows shoot into his white hair. These were strange times. Perhaps nurture was stronger than nature after all, but then again, Minerva had told him that the boy knew nothing about his past, and even Rubeus had grudgingly admitted that he was a pleasant boy.

"Granger, Hermione!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

This name was unfamiliar. A muggleborn, and then, finally:

"Longbottom, Neville!"

A pale, round faced boy sat on the stool. He was thin, and flinched when the hall filled with whispers. The boy and his mother had become major celebrities a mere five years ago, when Voldemort had managed to track the family down. His father Frank had managed to destroy Voldemort's physical form with an unknown curse, but the resultant explosion gave him terrible injuries, and he had died later in Saint Mungo's.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Relieved, Albus sank once more into his own thoughts, until another familiar name pulled him back.

"Potter, Harry!"

The boy looked so much like his father. Each time Albus saw him, he marvelled over how the boy could look so much like James, but have such perfect replicas of Lily's eyes. The hat's decision was almost instant.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The last people were sorted, and yet another Weasley was added to Gryffindor house. The hat was carried out of the hall to be placed back on its shelf until the next year. He got to his feet to give the usual announcements, beaming at his students.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

There was scattered laughter and applause at his words. He liked it when he made his students laugh. As he helped himself to food, he watched as the Potter boy began calling to Fiasco across the hall. They were obviously already firm friends.

These were certainly strange times they lived in.


	2. September

**September**

The first of September brought a gust of chilly rain for the first time in weeks, and Alice Potter was relishing in the petrichor. Petrichor… the smell of dust after rain. Alice liked words; the more complex the better, but today excitement had left her unable to do anything but babble. Today she was going to Hogwarts.

Oscar ran back into his room for his broomstick, and quickly slid it into his trunk. He had joined the Gryffindor quidditch team last year, much to Alastair's chagrin. He knew that this year was going to be the best so far, even with the war. He just couldn't wait to visit Hogsmeade.

Alastair packed his textbooks grumpily. Fifth year meant OWL year, as everyone was constantly reminding him. This year was going to be eaten up by essays and revision, with little time for leisure or relaxation. It was worse for him, as he had to follow his brother. Harry had received a full complement of E's and O's in _his_ OWL's, courtesy, Alastair suspected, of his Ravenclaw best friend. Just his luck to be following the nerdiest brother in the world.

Harry Potter locked his trunk, made sure that Hedwig was shut in her cage, and pinned his head boy badge to his jacket. This was to be his last year at Hogwarts, and he couldn't help being jealous of those kids like his sister who was just beginning. Next year, he would be thrust out into the real world, into the war.

"Harry?"

He whirled around. Evangeline Lupin was crying in the doorway to his bedroom.

"Hey Evie," he said softly. "Need a hug?"

She nodded, and he held out his arms to her. She buried her face in his stomach. After a while they broke apart. Harry handed her a tissue.

"I'll come and help you with your trunk, if you like."

He took her hand, and they went to the tiny room at the top of the house where she had recently started living. Evie's parents had been killed by the death eaters at the start of the year, and Harry's parents had taken her in. She was the same age as Alice, and the two of them had kept each other company while the boys were away at school. Now they were joining them at Hogwarts.

Eventually everyone was ready, and assembled in the living room.

"Okay, Harry," said James. You can go first."

Harry took a handful of floo powder, removed his glasses, and dragged his trunk behind him into the fireplace.

"18 Hallows Avenue!" he cried, and the living room whipped out of sight. When he reached the small townhouse, he stepped out of the fireplace to find his godfather grinning at him.

"Sirius!"

"Hey Harry, you took your time. I thought we'd miss the train.

"Don't exaggerate, Sirius," said Lucia Black, coming into the room. "There's plenty of time."

Alastair materialised behind him, and Harry was moving out of the way as Lyra and Iris waltzed in.

"The taxis have arrived," announced Lyra.

"Right," said Sirius. "Come on, boys; give me a hand with your trunks."

They obliged, and soon everyone was loaded into the three taxis. Harry found himself in the one with Alice, Iris, and Evie, who were energetically discussing houses.

"Gryffindor's the best!" he hissed over his shoulder, then he put a finger on his lips, indicating the muggle taxi-driver. They nodded, and lowered their voices.

"Here we are, Kings Cross Station," said the taxi driver, pulling up beside the pavement.

"Great, thanks!" said Harry. "Dad'll come over to pay you."

After the cars had left, the adults helped the kids find trolleys for their trunks, and the large group made their way through the jostling crowds of muggles. They came to a halt in front of the divide between platforms nine and ten.

"Let's go, girls," muttered Sirius, leading his family through the wall. James and Lily shepherded Alice and Evie through, and Harry followed his brothers. He winced as they approached the wall, but as usual they just passed straight through.

The train was already waiting, puffing steam over the platform, creating a mist of thick fog that smothered the platform. Harry slipped away when they passed the prefects carriage, intending to stow away his trunk.

"Harry!"

"Hi! How are you, Marc? How's the flat?"

"Fantastic," grinned the pale blonde boy, his grey eyes shining. "I still can't believe I've left the orphanage for good!"

Harry grinned as he pulled on his robes. He knew Marc detested the muggle orphanage in which he had been brought up. He moved his badge from his jacket to his robes. Marc noticed.

"So, head boy, eh?" I'm still only a humble prefect."

"Yeah, do you know who's head girl?"

"Not yet. I wouldn't be surprised if it was Granger. She loves bossing people around."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, but not as much as she used to. I think her boyfriend's having an influence."

"Oh, so is she seeing Weasley now?"

"That's what Ginny told me. By the sounds of her letters she's enjoying ribbing him about it."

"It won't last long, they argue too much. You'll need to watch out then. You know what they say about the head boy and girl."

He winked, and Harry ground his teeth.

"I've got to go and check on my siblings, are you coming?"

"Sure,"

They jumped back down onto the platform, and darted through the crowds.

"There you are!" exclaimed Lily at the sight of her eldest son. "Hello Marc."

"Mrs Potter."

"Marc, you remember my sister Alice?"

"Of course. She looks just like you every day."

"And this is my godfather, Sirius."

Sirius turned at the sound of his name, and did a double-take, staring at Marc.

"Hi," said Marc. "I don't believe we've met."

"N-no, I don't think so. Are you Marc?"

"That's me."

"Alastair blames you for every good grade Harry's ever received."

"So I've been told."

Sirius was pale. "Who are your parents? I-I think I recognise you from somewhere."

"They died a long time ago, they were muggles."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you just…"

"You'd better go," said James, checking his watch. He reached out to hug his son. "Have a good term. We'll see you at Christmas."

"Bye, mum," said Harry, kissing Lily's cheek. "I'll look in on the girls later," he promised the adults. They waved, and he departed back down the platform with Marc. The guard blew his whistle, but they managed to clamber into the prefect's carriage just as the train started to move.

"Ah, Potter, Fiasco, glad you could join us."

Marc wrinkled his nose at the use of his surname. Harry groaned inwardly. Granger _was_ head girl. She turned around, and gasped.

"_You're_ head boy?"

"Problem, Granger?"

"Apparently not. Now, here's the patrol rota for September, as you can see, I've made an

effort to partner everyone with their friends, to make this year as painless as possible…"

Everything alright, girls?" asked Harry, poking his head around the compartment door. They nodded, smiling. A pair of boys had joined them, and the three seemed rather giggly. He withdrew hastily, and continued down the corridor after Marc.

"You don't have to babysit them, you know," he teased. "Honestly Harry, you should be a Hufflepuff! Oh, here they are!"

"Hello boys," said a dreamy voice.

"Hi Luna!" they chorused. Harry looked around. There was Luna and Ginny, Dean (Ginny's boyfriend), and Terry Boot, a friend of Marc's.

"You've been ages," he remarked.

"Bumped into a few people," said Marc, flopping down in an empty seat. "Saw your brother, Ginny; he seemed to be enjoying himself. I hadn't realised the head-girl's face was so tasty, I'm surprised she didn't given him detention."

They all chuckled.

"Hermione's actually okay," said Ginny. "She came over a few times in the summer. She's nice… when you get her to stop bossing people around," she added in response to the raised eyebrows.

The compartment door clattered open.

"Anything off the trolley dears?"

The rest of the journey was lost in a haze of sugar and banter, and soon the announcement echoed down the train.

"We will be arriving at Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

They left their compartment, and joined the students thronging the corridor as the train pulled into Hogsmeade.

"Firs' years over 'ere!" called Hagrid. Harry and his friends waved to him before joining the other students making their way towards the carriages.

"Terry! Marc! Wait up!"

Another boy joined them in their carriage just as it set off.

"Oh, hi Harry, I didn't see you there."

"Hello Tony."

He was gasping for breath. "I've been looking for you lot everywhere. I managed to get stuck in a compartment with Zabini and his Slytherin buddies."

They all pulled faces sympathetically.

"Have you seen Neville?" Marc asked. Anthony shook his head.

They arrived at the castle, and joined the queue to get into the great hall.

"I don't think he went home this summer," said Harry thoughtfully. "There are rumours he's been with Dumbledore, and he's been very vague in his letters.

"Move along! Move along now!" yelled Professor McGonagall. "The first-years will be here soon!"

They reached the Gryffindor table. "See you later," said Harry, spotting a lone figure sitting at the far end. He hurried along, and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Neville!"

He jumped, "Blimey, Harry, don't do that!"

"Hello Nev, good summer?"

"Alright. Spent the summer with Dumbledore looking for… you know…"

"Of course."

Harry always knew much more about Neville's whereabouts than he ever let on to his friends.

"How's it been going?"

"Later," he muttered, aware that a lot of people were attempting to listen in to their conversation. At that moment, the doors swung open, and McGonagall led a line of terrified looking first years into the hall. Harry grinned at Alice as she passed.

"Your sister looks so much like you," commented Neville.

"Everyone says that. I swear our parents get confused between us."

"She definitely looks like Gryffindor material."

In the background, the hat started to sing.

"I hope so, I don't know what our parents will say if she's not."

"Your parents are good people, but imagine if she was a Slytherin!"

"I don't want to imagine it. I've spent all summer deliberately avoiding that thought."

The people around them burst into applause. Harry and Neville stopped talking to listen to the names being read out.

"Ackerby, James!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Anderson, Carl!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Black, Iris!"

Harry watched as the small girl stumbled up to the stool. The result was instantaneous.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Down the table, Lyra gasped. Iris went to the Slytherin table, and the sorting continued.

"Higgins, Andrew!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Hilbert, Katherine!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Lupin, Evangeline!"

Harry crossed his fingers under the table.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Evie would be alright in Hufflepuff. He caught Ernie Macmillan's eye.

_Look after her!_ He mouthed. Ernie nodded to show he'd got the message.

"Moon, Daniel!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Musgrove, Angela!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Nott, Thierry!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Potter, Alice!"

Harry waited with bated breath. The hat took a long time to decide.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Alice was a Ravenclaw? But then oddly, the thought made sense to Harry. Alice had always been clever. He grinned at Marc across the hall, who gave him the thumbs up.

The sorting finished with "Zenou, Emily!" being made a Slytherin, and the sorting hat was carried out of the hall. All eyes turned to Dumbledore as he got to his feet.

"Hello, and welcome back!" he cried, stretching his arms wide. Harry gasped, and so did several others.

"What happened to his hand?"

"Tell you later."

Dumbledore's hand was black and burned. He shook his sleeve over it. Now, I have a few words to say before the feast. As you are all aware," he said seriously, "Lord Voldemort and his followers have rapidly been gaining strength, and consequently some new security measures have been imposed. The magical protection on the castle has been strengthened, and there will be a team of aurors stationed at the school. Curfew has been moved forward to eight o'clock, and any students out of their dormitories past that time will face severe consequences. And finally, I must warn you that if any student should attempt to aid or assist the Death Eaters, the matter will be taken to the ministry of magic, and they will act accordingly." His eyes fluttered to the Slytherin table. Then his face broke into a smile. "But enough of that for now. Let the feast begin!"

The tables filled with food, startling all the first years. Harry helped himself to beef.

"So fill me in," demanded Neville. "My summer was all over the place. What have I missed?"

"Not a lot," Harry admitted. "Spent some time with Ginny, saw Marc a couple of times… he's got his own place, now, left the orphanage."

"That's great news."

"Bumped into Granger and Weasley in Diagon Alley."

"They still together?"

"Practically married," groaned Harry. "I had no idea Granger could be so disgustingly soppy."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I got out of there pretty quickly. I was with Ginny, and it was too much for her, or her brother, to handle."

"So are you and Ginny together yet?" asked Neville with a wicked grin. Harry choked on his pumpkin juice.

"No!"

"Well you're _practically married_," imitated Neville. "At least Granger and Weasley have the decency to actually go out. You and Ginny have been dancing around each other for ages."

"Ginny started seeing Dean during the summer."

"Oh, I see." He chuckled. "You're wearing your jealous expression."

"Am not!"

"You are too. Merlin, we sound like first-years."

The puddings appeared, and Harry lunged for the treacle tart. They ate in silence for a while.

"You know," said Neville, "you've got no idea how much of a relief this is for me. My life's been upside down for weeks, and now we're just sitting here talking about girls."

"Anyone caught your fancy yet, Neville?"

"No!" he replied too quickly. His eyes flickered towards the Hufflepuff table.

"That's a shame," said Harry. "Because I know Hannah Abbot loves you to bits. She thinks the world of you."

Neville blushed. "Well I did write to her a bit over the summer."

"She's nice; you should ask her to Hogsmeade."

"I'd like to, but I might not be around a lot this year, and I won't be able to explain to her."

"She won't mind, she's a Hufflepuff. They're very understanding."

"I know, but I don't want to make her a target." He said softly. Harry stopped pestering him. Everything Neville did, or wanted to do was overshadowed by Voldemort. The title 'the Chosen One' came with a price. Harry couldn't imagine not being able to go out with a girl because he was worried she'd be killed.

The feast vanished, leaving the golden plates sparkling. Dumbledore got to his feet again.

"Just a few start of term notices," he said airily. "Can the first years please note; that the Forbidden forest is out of bounds for all students. Also, Mr Filch asked me to inform you that there is a blanket ban on all products from the shop 'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes'. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term, any student wishing to play for their house should contact Madam Hooch. Now, off you go! Bed time!"

There was a rumble like thunder as everybody got to their feet. Harry darted to the end of the table to help the first years.

"First year Gryffindors!"

They were truly tiny, and stood in a nervous huddle. They drew even closer together as Harry, the head boy approached them.

"Okay, have we got everybody? Follow me!"

He led them out the hall, with Granger at the back mop up any stragglers. Harry was exhausted, but at last they reached the portrait of the fat lady.

"Password?"

"Quidditch,"

The painting swung forwards and the helped the first years through the hole.

"Do you want to handle the speech?" he muttered to Granger. She nodded, and Harry collapsed onto the sofa where Neville was waiting. There was a rush of whispering amongst the first years. Apparently the appearance of Neville Longbottom was causing quite a stir. Granger called them to attention.

"So what's the news?" asked Harry softly as the first years filed out.

"We found three."

"_Three horcruxes?_"

"Yeah. A ring, a locket and a diary. The diary was in the ruins of a mansion that Dumbledore called 'Malfoy manor', but the locket was in the middle of a lake full of inferi." Neville shuddered. "You had to drink a potion to get to it, and Dumbledore…"

"Is that how his hand got damaged?"

"No, that was after we found the ring in a little shack where Voldemort's mother had lived. The ring carried a curse, a powerful one. He spent days in St Mungo's, but even they couldn't truly stop it."

Harry sat bolt upright as this sank in. "How long has he got?"

"Six months, maybe less. It's only a matter of time."

Harry had nothing to say to this. They sat before the dying embers of the fire, before departing up to bed.

"That's me unpacked," said Callum happily. As usual, all his clothes were neatly folded, his books impeccably stacked in alphabetical order, and all his other belongings were stowed away. He jumped when Alastair tossed him a bottle, but grabbed it before it hit the floor.

"Nice catch, prefect. Now have a swig."

"Firewhiskey? Are you sure? This is only half full… how much have you had?"

"Enough," he laughed drunkenly. "C'mon, Cal, you need to loosen up." He hiccoughed, and staggered back to his bed. "Go on! Take a swig and pass it on!"

"Morning!" said Oscar brightly. Alastair merely snarled. All the fifth year boys were very pale. "Ooh, had a bit too much to drink?" he taunted. He dodged his older brother's fist, and slid into a seat next to Harry.

"Al got pissed last night," he informed him, causing Harry to cough and splutter into his coffee. "What, you didn't notice, Head Boy? Merlin, you're so naïve. Where's Neville?"

Harry just handed him a timetable wordlessly. Oscar scanned it. Potions first, then care of magical creatures and muggle studies, both of his new subjects in one day! Followed by…

"Hmm, history of magic, fun fun fun," said Harry, rising to his feet. "Good luck with that, little brother."

Before Oscar could reply, he had darted down to the end of the hall to apprehend Alastair before he could escape through the door.

"Hey Oscar, where's Harry going?"

Oscar turned to find Marc, Alice, and a girl he did not know.

"Gone to lecture Al, they um… had some _ifun/i_ last night."

Marc laughed. "Good for them. I think it's a shame that us seventh years are so serious, I have half a mind to organise my own binge-fest."

"You're a prefect," Alice reminded him primly.

"So I am," said Marc, pretending to be downcast. "But that doesn't mean I am doomed to a life of rules and regulations."

"So how do you like Ravenclaw, Alice?" asked Oscar. She grinned, and ducked her head shyly.

"It's okay."

"Okay?" exclaimed Marc, pretending to be mortally offended. "Only okay?"

"You love it, don't you?"

She nodded.

"Then great. I bet mum and dad are pleased, their little Alice is a brainbox!"

She nodded again, tapping her pocket. "They sent me a letter. Anyway, see you later." She took her friend's hand, and dragged her away. Marc slid onto the bench next to Oscar, and started helping himself to the remnants of Harry's breakfast.

"So, Harry started banging on about Quidditch yet?"

"What's it to you? Have the Ravenclaws been reduced to spying? How's _iyour/i_ Quidditch team going?"

"Not great, our seeker left last year, and it will be very hard to find another one who's even half decent."

"Hell that, isn't it."

"Yeah."

"At least we have Harry."

"Welcome to your first flying lesson," announced Madame Hooch, striding out in front of the first years. Alice stood in line with the rest of the Ravenclaws, shivering with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. This week she had shone in all her lessons, but flying wasn't something you could learn out of a book.

"Put your right hand over your broom, and say 'up'!"

"Up!" they chorused. To her surprise Alice's broom jumped straight into her hand. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a number of older students who had gathered to watch the first years attempt at flying. From their expressions it was obvious that they expected amusement. Madam Hooch now walked amongst them, correcting all their grips.

"On my whistle, kick off from the ground hard. Three… two… one…" she blew her whistle.

Alice kicked off, and shot upwards like a cork. There were a few gasps, and even some screams as she rose higher and faster than anyone else. But she was laughing, and easily as breathing, she brought the broom down in a long swoop, skimming the grass with her toes, then rising again, in perfectly controlled motion.

"Very nice, Miss Potter!" cried Madam Hooch. "You fly like your brothers!"

Alice assumed she was conveniently forgetting about Alastair, who flew like a drunken Hippogriff. She landed at the edge of the group, and watched the others attempt to get their brooms in the air.

"Are you Harry Potter's sister?" asked a voice behind her. It was the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain.

"I'm Alexander Wigget," he said, holding out a hand. "How do you do?"

"Alice Potter."

"You fly very well."

"Thank you."

"Would you be interested in trying out?"

"Trying out? You mean to play Quidditch? But first years never make the teams!"

"It wouldn't do you any harm to try. The trials are on Saturday, I expect you to be there. We need a decent seeker."

Harry picked at his dinner. It had been a good weekend so far. He'd had a quiet patrol last night, and the Gryffindor try outs this morning had been fantastic, they had a great team this year. He had hung out with Ginny at Hagrids all afternoon; he should have been in great spirits. But his eyes were drawn to Neville's empty place. He was gone for the second time in a week. No explanation, no warning, just an empty bed in the morning light.

"Oi, budge up Potter," said a voice, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Budge up yourself, Marc, there's loads of space."

"Alright! No need to be snappy!" he took a seat. He was still in his Quidditch robes. "Your sister is a bloody good flier." He said grumpily.

"She got on the team?"

"You _knew_ she was going to try out?"

"Of course, I lent her my broom."

"Figures," he mumbled darkly. "Yes, she got on the team. Seeker. I nearly had a heart attack when she showed up, a first year playing Quidditch! Then she started flying… Merlin, she's even better than you were. You're gonna have your work cut out getting to the snitch before she does."

Harry was just getting out of bed when Neville waltzed into the dormitory. He was dirty, his clothes were torn and he looked exhausted, but he was grinning like he'd had an overdose of cheering charms.

"Did you get it?" Harry asked eagerly as the other boys stared.

"We got it," confirmed Neville. "Hufflepuff's cup, buried in the old home of Hephzibah Smith."

And with that he fell onto the bed, and started snoring.


	3. October

**Author's Notes: Dear readers, (if there are any, I hope there are), here is the third instalment to my first ever fan-fiction. I hope you enjoy it. CHALLENGE: try and guess who Marc Lloyd Fiasco really is (if you haven't already)!**

**October**

The great hall was buzzing with conversation as harry and Neville arrived on the windy Tuesday morning. They exchanged a worried glance, then joined Terry, Tony and Marc at the Ravenclaw table.

"What's happened?"

They passed down a copy of the daily prophet. The headline read: MASS BREAKOUT AT AZKABAN!

"_What?_" they cried together, craning in to read more.

"All the top security prisoners," said Marc shakily. "The Lestranges, the Malfoys, Snape… all the old death-eaters. You-Know-Who's just doubled his forces."

"How did they escape?"

"No-one's completely sure, but the dementors have been for You-Know-Who for ages, the worrying bit is why they took so long to break out."

"A bit conspicuous," said Neville gloomily. "Voldemort was trying to return without anyone noticing. He's had five years to rebuild his army under cover, and now he's going public."

"The ministry…"

"Stuff the ministry," said Harry angrily. "The ministry is doomed. They couldn't stand up to a rampaging flobberworm, let alone the Dark Lord."

There was a moment's silence, then the bell rang for first class.

"Transfiguration," said Tony. "Come on, guys."

"See you later, Nev," said Harry, as the four of them got to their feet. Harry glanced back from the doorway to see Neville holding the Prophet tight in his fist.

"I feel sorry for Neville," said Marc. "You-Know-Who killed his father, let slip that Neville's dangerous to him, and suddenly everyone's proclaiming him as the 'Chosen One'.

"It's bigger than that," said Tony under his breath. My Uncle works in the Department of Mysteries. He's not supposed to say anything, but I heard him telling my dad that there's a prophecy about the defeat of You-Know-Who, and that it has recently been re-labelled so that it's got Neville's name on it."

"A prophecy?" Harry asked in amazement. "How did you… never mind. Just don't spread it around."

"I won't, but it makes you think… do you remember what Trelawney said to him in her first lesson?"

"She wasn't being serious," said Marc uneasily. "Flitwick told us she does that every year."

"She marked Neville out for death! What if she _was_ being serious? That was before all this 'Chosen One' rubbish started. What if…"

But at that point, the door to the transfiguration classroom swung open, and they filed inside.

"Good morning, class!" said Professor McGonagall. "Today we shall be continuing our study of human transfiguration, and moving on to the practical aspect."

Harry was struggling to stop a smirk crossing his face. His father had already taught him this. It had taken them at least a month to het the theory. Now, at last, they were being told to split up into pairs and practice.

"Ready, Marc?" asked Harry, wiggling his eyebrows. Marc visible braced himself. It was common knowledge that Harry Potter's father worked in experimental transfiguration. Harry pointed his wand at Marc, concentrating on his mass of scruffy platinum hair…

_Pop!_

A white ferret sat on the floor of the classroom. The class burst into a mixture of applause and laughter. Then with another _pop_, Harry reversed the spell, leaving Marc curled on the floor.

"Very good, Mr Potter!" cried McGonagall. "Ten points to Gryffindor! Are you going to answer that, Mr Fiasco?"

Marc pointed his wand at Harry several times, but nothing happened.

"Never mind, Fiasco, just keep trying. The rest of you, pay attention to your own work!"

Harry stowed his wand in his pocket, and watched Marc struggle, occasionally calling out bits of advice.

"You're flourishing your wand too much… try picturing the animal, really clearly in your mind…"

But by the time McGonagall came back around, Marc still hadn't managed the spell.

"Come on, Mr Fiasco, or I'll have to give you extra homework."

Marc jabbed his wand again. Harry clutched his own tightly, and transformed into a stag.

"Excellent!" said McGonagall as the bell rang. Marc pointed his wand at Harry, who changed back. Harry hurried out the classroom, not meeting Marc's eye. But the taller boy quickly caught up, dragged Harry into a side passage, and shoved him against the wall.

"So," he said, seething. "Exactly how long have you been an animagus, Mr Potter?"

"I don't…"

"Don't lie to me! There's no way that I can cast that spell, and even if, by some miracle I _had_ managed it, you wouldn't have turned into a bloody deer."

"What were you trying to turn me into?"

"How does a frog sound?"

"Wow, very original," laughed Harry. "Alright, I took pity on you in front of McGonagall. Dad taught me how to change form in the summer, as a birthday present."

Marc released his hold on Harry. "You could have at least warned me. I thought you were going to spear me with your antlers."

"Boys?" said another voice. "What are you doing?"

They both turned, and stepped away from each other. "Hi Ginny," they chanted in unison. She narrowed her eyes.

"What were you doing?" she asked again, her voice intently suspicious.

"Um…"

"Fighting," said Harry brightly. "He turned me into a deer."

"You turned me into a ferret!"

Harry bowed, smiling modestly. Then he said: "Quidditch practise tonight, Ginny, six o'clock. Can you tell Dean?"

She scowled openly. Marc took a sharp breath in.

"Tell him yourself," she snapped, and she stalked off back the way she had come.

"Um… Harry, she and Dean split up," said Marc softly. At breakfast, before you got there. They had a massive shouting match in front of the whole school."

Harry clapped a hand to his mouth. "Merlin's pants! My Quidditch team is going to be in a right mess! Oh, I wish Katie was still here."

Marc nodded understandingly. He gazed wistfully at the spot where Ginny had vanished. It took him a moment to realise that Harry was doing the same thing.

Oscar hovered in mid-air and watched the practice fall to pieces around him. Dean and Ginny kept exchanging glares, and seemed to be playing 'let's-try-and-kill-each-other-with-the-quaffle'. Poor Demelza was being caught in the crossfire, and Peakes and Coote had fallen to messing around.

"Enough!" roared Harry eventually. "You two, pack away the bludgers and grow up! Ginny and Dean, get off this pitch, and I don't want to see you again until you've sorted yourselves out! Oscar and Demelza, well done, you played really well tonight, but the rest of you, sort yourselves out for merlin's sake!"

"He's really mad," observed Demelza, as they reached the ground, watching Harry storm off. "But I guess he has reason to be."

"Mmm," said Oscar. He always seemed to have problems with coherency when Demelza was around. Especially when she was watching him.

"You're not much like him," she observed. "You're calmer, although your hair should suggest otherwise."

"It's my mother's genes. Harry's more like dad."

They glanced around them suddenly. They had managed to find themselves alone on the Quidditch pitch.

"You know what?" he said nervously. "Curfew isn't for another two hours. Fancy a spot of extra flying?" he edged forwards, and put his hand on her shoulder. "You're it!"

"Game on!" she grinned. They hopped back onto their brooms, and took to the skies once more.

"Er, Demelza?" he began as they were walking back up to the castle.

"Yes?" she smiled shyly at him. Merlin, she was pretty.

"Will you, c-come to Hogsmeade w-with me th-this weekend?"

She smiled again. "Sure, I'd like that."

"Um… th-thanks."

"You're cute when you stutter."

Oscar had no answer for this, but felt the blush on his cheeks spread to the back of his neck.

"Iris we can't go out there now! Curfew's not long!"

"Don't be such a Hufflepuff, Evie! Are you coming, Alice?"

Alice hesitated.

"C'mon!" where's your sense of adventure?"

"My brother's head boy…"

"You're not him!"

"Yes, but-"

"Well I'm going, even if you two aren't."

"Fine!" snapped Evie, who wasn't about to let Iris get in to trouble on her own.

"Okay," whispered Alice. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Dad told me about this secret room," she grinned wickedly. "Up on the seventh floor, said he only ever found it once. When he came back it was gone."

"Then how do we find it?"

"We look for the tapestry of the ballet-dancing trolls, and go from there."

It didn't take them long to find the tapestry. It stretched along an entire wall.

"Wonder where the door is?" said iris, pacing up and down in a nervous fashion.

"Relax," Alice told her. "Curfew's not for ten minutes."

As Evie passed them for the third time, a wooden door materialised in the tapestry. All three of them gasped.

"There it is!"

They pushed the door open, and peeped inside.

The sound of voices hit them as soon as there was a crack in the door. Loud, rowdy, drunken voices.

It's Alastair, whispered Alice. "What's he doing with those Slytherins?"

"Those ones over there are Hufflepuffs."

"And Ravenclaws. It's a party."

"Is that firewhiskey?"

They crept out, shutting the door softly. No-one had noticed them.

"What do we do?" whispered Evie.

"We find Harry, he'll know what to do."

Even through his firewhiskey-induced obliviousness, Alastair knew he was in trouble. Even to a drunk, the face of professor McGonagall was instantly recognisable. And then, to add insult to detention, there was Harry right behind her. How in the name of Merlin's pants had _he_ found out? Ah, well. Alastair swayed slightly, and prepared himself for interrogation. While it had lasted, it had been a very good party.

The tiny village of Hogsmeade was a truly beautiful place, and Oscar and Demelza had spent the whole day there on their 'date'. By the time they began walking back up to the school, they had progressed as far as holding hands.

"Oi! You two!"

It was Harry and his Ravenclaw friends. Oscar sometimes wondered why he didn't re-sort himself into Ravenclaw. As they passed the three broomsticks he caught up with them.

"Now, you two be good to each other," he said. "Don't you dare mess each other around. The quidditch match is next week, and I don't want my team in a bigger mess than it already is."

Oscar could have hit Harry then. There he was, on a date with his first prospective girlfriend, and Harry was already giving him the 'be nice to her' lecture. Oscar opened his mouth to retort, but there was a loud crack, and Neville Longbottom appeared in their midst.

"Harry, help me!"

But there was another crack, and suddenly there were black robes all around them. Harry yelped, and swung his wand in the direction of Oscar and Demelza, who slid into the porch of the three broomsticks. They flattened themselves against the wall as people came charging out to help. And suddenly the air was thick with flying curses. As people flocked from all over the village the Death-Eaters were briefly outnumbered, but more and more of them kept arriving…

The battle scene froze comically before them, and Lord Voldemort was walking in their midst.

"Come now," he said in a soft silky voice that carried to the far end of the village. "Let's have none of this childish fighting."

He flicked his wand, and everybody dropped to the floor. The Death-Eaters laughed, and gathered in a formation behind Voldemort. With another flick of his wand he dispelled the villages, so only the five Hogwarts boys were left standing there.

"My Lord," said a drawling voice. Long platinum hair was escaping from under the hood.

"Yes, Lucius?"

"The blonde on, it's him."

"_Him_? Are you sure?" he studied Marc. "What's your name, boy?"

Marc remained silent. Voldemort chuckled.

"Yes, perhaps you're right, Lucius. There is a remarkable family resemblance. Take him, if you wish, but you may need to re-educate him. I doubt he has been brought up to appreciate our values, judging by the company he keeps."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Marc. "What do you know about my family? There's no way I'm coming with you! Let go of me!"

"Let him go!" cried Harry. Marc was now firing hexes at the two hooded figures who were trying to drag him away. He ran forwards to help.

"What do you want me for? I'm muggleborn! I can't join you, and I don't want to!"

"Take him or leave him, it does not matter," said Voldemort harshly.

Something inside Harry snapped. "If you're going to kill us then why don't you get on with it?"

Voldemort turned to Neville. "Certainly."

He only just reacted in time to block Harry's curse, and soon they were duelling. Oscar watched with horror and amazement as his brother duelled the Dark Lord. When Harry was angry, he was a force to be reckoned with. What happened next was so fast Oscar barely had time to take it in.

"Avada kedavra!"

"No! Harry!"

Before the rest of them had time to think, Neville had dived in front of Harry, and now lay on the ground, unmoving.

"Neville!" Harry bellowed, but before he could cast another curse, there was another flash of green light, and Harry was screaming, screaming so hard Oscar thought his eardrums were going to burst…

There was a loud crack next to him, and Dumbledore materialised. Cold fury was etched onto his face. The Death-Eaters and Voldemort vanished in columns of black smoke.

They carried him, still screaming, as fast as possible up to the castle.

"What happened?" Dumbledore was asking urgently, his face deathly pale.

Marc was crying. "Death-Eaters, Voldemort… killed Neville, tried to take me away… but Harry… hit by the killing curse."

Dumbledore swore under his breath, and fumbled for his wand. "Expecto patronum!" A silver phoenix burst out of the wand, and sped off into the distance.

"Oh my God," gasped Madame Pomfrey as they levitated Harry and Neville onto beds. "Albus we need to get him to Saint Mugo's."

"It's too dangerous to move him now,"

At some point on the journey up, Harry had lost consciousness. If it wasn't for the weak, laboured movement of his chest, Oscar wouldn't have known he was still alive.

"There's nothing I can do," said Madame Pomfrey, in tears. "Not against the killing curse. He should have died instantly, I don't know…"

"It's not your fault, Poppy," Dumbledore said firmly. He turned to Oscar. Where are Alastair and Alice?"

"Alastair's in the dungeon in detention, Alice… probably in Ravenclaw tower."

"Mr Boot? Mr Goldstein?"

They nodded, and strode out of the hospital wing. Oscar sank into a chair, and took his brother's hand. It was ice cold.

"HARRY!" screamed a voice from the door. Their parents had just charged in. Soon their mother was sobbing over Harry's unconscious form, pleading with him not to die, to wake up, come back, everything was going to be alright…

In the end they just all sat around the bed in silence, listening as Harry's breathing grew less and less frequent. Below them they could hear the happy sounds of students at the Halloween feast. The very idea of happiness seemed strange to Oscar now. He was about to lose his brother.

Then all of a sudden the breath stopped, and he was gone. All that was left was his still chest, and a lightning bolt scar over the place where his heart used to beat.


	4. Interlude Outside of Time

**Dear readers, here are two more chapters of my fan fic. Enjoy, and please let me know what you think. It would be nice to receive some reassurance that I'm not writing gibberish.**

**Interlude Outside of Time**

Harry's first thought when he woke was that the house elves had been re-decorating. Then he realised he was enveloped in a huge, thick fog. It cleared be degrees to reveal the Gryffindor common room. And on the comfiest sofa, right by the fire, sat…

"Neville?"

He whipped around, horror on his face. "Oh no, Harry! I didn't want them to get you too! I'm so, so sorry!"

"It's not your fault," said Harry firmly.

"They were following me!" sobbed Neville. "And we didn't even find the horcrux! It's all my fault, they're never going to defeat Voldemort now."

Harry joined him on the sofa.

"There is a prophecy," began Neville. "Predicting the downfall of Voldemort. A boy would be born at the end of July, to parents who had escaped Voldemort three times. It said that Voldemort would mark him as his equal, and that he'd have power the Dark Lord knows not, and that neither could live while the other survives."

"And you were the one?"

"Well, I could have been," said Neville, running a hand through his hair. "It's always hard to tell with prophecies, but it was perfectly possible that I was the one to finish him. But there was another boy, you."

"Me?"

"Don't look at me like that, it's true."

"But now we're both dead."

"I guess,"

Neville poked the fire gloomily, and suddenly Dumbledore's voice rang through the room. A picture appeared in the fireplace, Dumbledore was making an announcement to a hall full of students.

"I am sorry to inform you," he said gravely. "that following an incident in Hogsmeade yesterday afternoon, Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter were both killed by Death-Eaters. As of today, we will…"

Neville prodded the poker savagely, and the image disintergrated. He glanced over his shoulder at the portrait hole.

"Can you feel it? The portrait hole?"

"I feel like it's pushing me away," said Harry.

"It's pulling me through. I wonder why…"

He stirred up the embers of the fire again, and another image appeared. Six men were carrying a coffin through a village Harry recognised as Godric's Hollow. They rested the coffin on a slab in the church, and left, locking the doors behind them. the picture fell apart again. Neville got to his feet.

"There's no use sitting here anymore. You coming?"

Harry got up too. "You're going transparent."

"You're not."

Harry looked down at his arms. Neville was right, he was still solid. The two of them approached the portrait hole, but Harry felt himself be jerked back, like he had hit an invisible wall.

"I… can't…"

The room began to fill with white light. Neville tried to grab Harry's shoulders. "Harry! Listen to me! Use Gryffindor's sword, in Dumbledore's office! You must destroy the snake and the diadem! The snake is at the home of one of the Death-Eaters!"

"And the diadem?"

Everything was fading. As his vision turned completely to white, he caught just one word…

"Hogwarts!"


	5. November

**November**

Harry woke with a gasp and hit his head on something hard. He immediately realised that he was in a very small space, but it took him a little longer to remember that he was dead, and that this was probably his coffin. He lay as still as possible, listening…

The sudden hoot of an owl made him jump. With a blaze of relief he knew that he was still above ground, they hadn't buried him yet, which was comforting. If the owls were out it was obviously night time. He fumbled around a bit to find he was wearing dress robes, and that they had laid his wand on his chest. That was thoughtful of them.

"Honum Revelio," he whispered. There was no-one around. He took his wand, and as quietly as possible, began unscrewing the lid of the coffin.

He emerged into the little church in Godric's Hollow. After levitating an old slab into his now empty coffin, he crept out into the deserted graveyard. He needed to stay unseen and undetected. Fortunately, as an animagus he had the perfect surprise, but to his horror he did not transform into his usual stag. He was close to the ground, with black, velvety paws, and a long black tail. No way…

He raced on his suddenly springy legs and gazed into the stream that ran alongside the church. A coal-black cat with bright green eyes stared back. He began to feel shaky, he had never heard of an animagus form changing before. Obviously dying had messed with him in more ways than one. But if his animagus had changed…

He changed back to human, and whipped out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!"

The cat burst from the end of his wand, prowled around a bit, then vanished. Harry stowed his wand back in his robes, and returned to his cat-form. He needed to stay out of sight. He had to get on with his mission from Neville. But first he needed a rest, a place to stay. He longed to dart down the street and tell his family he was alive, but he couldn't. if word got out that he'd survived Voldemort's attack they would be in terrible danger. But that didn't mean he couldn't spend time with them.

Alastair woke with a start as dawn shone through the window. He climbed out of the big double bed, taking care not to disturb his siblings. They had all fallen asleep together that night.

The adults were already up and in the kitchen, hanging their heads over cups of tea. He didn't know what to say. It had always been Harry who was good at talking to their parents. Now he just felt helpless. The funeral was this morning.

There was a soft meow behind him, and their cat Lucy rubbed up against his legs, purring. She was followed by a pure black cat with startling green eyes, who also brushed against it's legs. They stalked over to the cat basket, and curled up. Lucy was fussing over the black cat, licking its ears and back. The black cat kept playfully flicking her off, like a boy being embarrassed by his mother. Lucy was probably old enough.

Alice couldn't even summon up the energy to read. The funeral had been awful. The church was full, and even those who had barely known Harry cried copiously. It was made even worse by the news trickling into the house. Neville's death had been a huge blow to the Wizarding community. All resistance to Voldemort seemed to have evaporated. He had taken over the ministry, the prophet, and there were rumours that he was trying to break into Hogwarts. Her parents were reluctant for her to go back to school, but she knew she had to return. At home, the hole left by Harry was obvious. At school, surrounded by Ravenclaws, things would be easier.

She went into the kitchen for some water, glancing towards the cat basket. For a moment, she thought she saw Harry curled up there asleep, but when she looked back it was the strange black cat once more.

**Any 'avid readers' will be pleased to know that this story is now **_**almost**_** completed on paper! It's now just a case of digitalizing it! And while I'm here I would also like to hint that I have the beginnings of a Sherlock Holmes/HP crossover… but that may have to wait until after my exams. Damn A-Levels to Voldemort.**


	6. December

**Dear readers, here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Please review!**

**December**

Harry had no real idea of how long he'd been 'dead', but the Christmas decorations had been up at least a few weeks, and the children all seemed to be off school. The ground was icy as he climbed to the top of the hill, and found himself in a children's playground. He surveyed the town below. It was a truly miserable place, consisting mostly of cramped brick houses in neat rows, under the shadow of an enormous industrial chimney. Spinner's end, it had said on the map. In a secluded spot behind some bushes, he changed back into his human form, and used the shiny surface of a frozen puddle as a mirror as he transfigured various parts of his physical appearance, yet again praising his lucky stars that he was a transfiguration master. He was well practiced at it by now, but he had never managed to find a disguise that he was completely comfortable with, and he was still unable to change his eye colour.

He shortened his hair a little, and gave himself freckles. He made himself a little smaller, and slighter, shrinking his clothes to match. He toyed with different hair colours for a while, and settled for a dark red, on the basis that he hadn't used that one before. With a tap his glasses rims turned brown, and his glasses morphed so that the round lenses turned rectangular. He was ready. With another glance in the puddle, he realised he looked a lot like his mother. Oh, well, he thought. It was a muggle town, it wasn't like anyone was going to recognise him.

He walked down the hill a little clumsily. He spent days at a time as a cat, and it always took him a little while to re-adjust.

The town was even drearier up close than it had seemed from the hill. Even the people had a woe-begone look about them. He ignored them, searching for the right street, the right number…

There was a crack. Death-Eaters had materialised down the end of the road. Harry backed away slowly, but the cloaked figures weren't interested in him. It was a muggle town, they were there for recreation. They marched down the street towards Harry, throwing curses at random. In minutes there were houses on fire, and Harry was running as fast as he could. He scraped to a stop on the edge of the town, staring at the road name. It was the one he was looking for. Just yards away houses were falling, and Harry was thrown off his feet as one hit the ground with a crash that made the earth tremble.

"Are you alright?"

A man was standing in a doorway. He wore long, black robes. Harry's heart almost stopped in his chest. He hadn't expected him to be in.

"I…"

"You'd better come in. By the way, your wand is sticking out of your pocket."

Harry followed him inside. His brain was screaming at him, telling him that it was a trap, but his instincts told him otherwise. He'd learned to trust his instincts, now that he spent most of the time as a cat.

"You look exhausted," the man said. Harry had to agree. The next thing he knew, he was being pushed into an armchair, and handed a butterbeer and a ham sandwich. The food and drink was like nectar, he'd been living off a combination of rats and cat food. He wasn't sure which was worse. As the man drew back, his sleeve rose slightly, so that the dark mark was clearly visible.

"You're a… Death-Eater," blurted Harry, even though he had known that before he set foot in the house.

"Yes," said calmly. "I am," and Harry thought he heard a trace of sadness and regret in his voice. The man frowned. "You seem familiar. What is your name?"

"I'm Barney, Barney Evans," said Harry, using his usual cover.

"Evans? Well I'm Snape, but you can call me Severus, as an apology for what you have undoubtedly just seen. Are you at Hogwarts yet?"

"Yeah, first year."

"What's your house?"

"Hufflepuff."

"Blood status?"

"Half-blood."

"I see."

Hufflepuff was always the safest bet.

"Why were they attacking the town when you live here?"

"They target muggle dwellings at random," he sighed. "Not many of us even know the names of some of our comrades, let alone where they live."

"But if you're a Death-Eater, then why are you being so… nice?" he finished lamely. Severus laughed.

"I was waiting for you to ask me that one. We're not all evil, no matter what people think. Lots of us are, I'll grant you that. But a few of us have the capability to be, as you put it, _nice_." His lip curled slightly on the last word. "So what brings you to Spinner's End? I wasn't aware that other wizards lived here."

"I was… looking for someone," he muttered. "A… a girl." he lied.

"What's her name?"

"Doesn't matter, she's not here. I've been wandering around for hours. I might as well give up."

"I did that once," said Severus softly. "Regretted it ever since." He stared into his butterbeer as Harry finished eating. "I grew up in this very house, a lonely child caught in the crossfire of my parent's marriage. Father was a muggle, you see, and he didn't like magic. So I spent a lot of time out of the house, at the park at the top of the hill, do you know it?"

"I saw it on my way in."

"You asked why I was being kind. The truth is, you look very much like a dear friend of mine. She used to play in that park, with her sister. I realised very early on that she was magical, that much was obvious. We grew up together, and went to Hogwarts together, as best friends. I loved her more than I had loved anyone before. But she was a Gryffindor, and I a Slytherin. In our fifth year things were said, and done, and she never looked my way again. I chased after her, of course, but it was no good."

"Who was she?"

"Well she's married now, but I knew her as Lily Evans. She married that berk Potter from our year. Perhaps you knew their son, Harry? He died recently."

"Yeah, I knew him," Harry mumbled, feeling himself blushing.

"I was there when he died. I must admit it saddens me, such a waste of life, even if he did look just like his father. Lily must be devastated."

He glanced out the window. Night was falling. "You'd best be off," said Severus. "It should be safe now."

Harry got to his feet, and Severus opened the door for him. Outside, snow had started to fall. Winter was setting in.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Evans."

"And to you, thank you for the food," said Harry. He shook the man's hand and left. As he walked to the edge of the town, he considered returning another time to execute a proper search, but he decided against it. He would return home for Christmas. He had no reason to be suspicious of Severus Snape.


	7. Interlude for Reflection

**An Interlude for Reflection**

The tiny village of Hogsmeade was shrouded in the morning mist, and Severus Snape knew how to take advantage of this. He hurried down a side street, pulling his cloak closer around him. The Dark Lord was already waiting for him.

"My Lord,"

"Severus," there was a short pause, then the high cold voice said, "follow me."

Snape followed Voldemort out of the village. They seemed to be heading towards Hogwarts. After a while, Voldemort came to a halt.

"This morning, the daily prophet will announce that Albus Dumbledore died in St Mungo's, of a parasitic curse."

Snape remained silent.

"You know my plans for the school. Tomorrow, there will be another announcement that you have been made headmaster. Attendance will be compulsory, and we can begin to… purify the school."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Come, there is a lot to prepare."

"Yes, my Lord."

**Sorry it's so short, been really bogged down in exams and shizz lately, but they finish soon! Should have the next proper chapter ready in a few days! Harry returns to Hogwarts, but not in quite the way you'd expect…**


	8. January

**So, here we are again. There are only a few chapters left now, and then I can begin my next work… but for now, I hope you enjoy this! Please review!**

**BTW, I don't believe I've said this yet, so I'd better do it now: I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER!**

**January**

SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWART'S HEADMASTER

Harry hissed angrily, and perused the article, his paws holding _the Prophet_ in place. Dumbledore was dead, and Voldemort had control of Hogwarts. He felt some reassurance, though. He knew the students would be safe under Severus. All the same, he felt a burning desire to return. He'd had no luck finding the snake, and Neville had said that the diadem was somewhere within Hogwarts… he darted into a back alleyway, where he transformed and disapperated. He materialised in the graveyard, and immediately transformed again. If anyone had seen him, they'd hopefully just think the place was haunted.

Lucy pretty much launched herself at him when he leapt over the fence. All cats sensed that he was not one of them, but Lucy was the only soul alive who knew his true identity. She helped him through the cat flap, and nudged him towards her food and water. He mewed softly in thanks, and then curled up in the cat box.

"The cat's back again," announced Alice as she waltzed into the living room. "It's rather sweet, I think."

Her parents just murmured in agreement, but Oscar looked up.

"He seems rather fond of this place."

Alice shrugged. "Lucy dotes on him, like he's her favourite kitten or something."

"She has a soft spot for strays."

"She's never brought them back to the house before."

It was the night before they returned to Hogwarts, and everyone was feeling edgy. Their mother had been depressed and listless since they had heard the news about Dumbledore, but it might have been the news about the Death Eaters in the school.

Alice wandered back to her neat and tidy room, and put a pair of neatly folded robes on top of her packed belongings. She left the trunk open, in case she had forgotten anything, and got ready for bed. She sat on the duvet, reading her Christmas present, a book about magical sports throughout history. Suddenly, she turned a page, and there was a photograph of a boy playing Quidditch. He had black hair, and was wearing red robes. Alice pushed the book away harshly. It wasn't Harry, but it was close enough. She felt tears well in her eyes, as they did most nights, like they were angry at being kept back in the day. Before long she was sobbing into her pillow.

The door creaked open. She wiped her eyes quickly, expecting her parents, but it was the black cat. He was staring at her and the expression on his face made him look just like Harry. This didn't help matters, and she burst into fresh tears.

The door clicked shut again. For a moment she thought the cat was gone, but he leapt up onto her bed, and wriggled into her arms. He began licking the tears off her face. She hugged him back, and cried herself to sleep. In the morning, the cat had disappeared.

Platform nine-and-three-quarters was more subdued that morning than usual. A mist had descended, and parents packed their children onto the train quickly, glancing uneasily around them. _They_ were there, and everybody knew it. If you looked hard enough into the shadows, you saw a Death Eater.

Oscar hugged his parents goodbye but didn't linger, worried they would lose it completely. The three of them settled into a compartment together, something which had never happened before.

"Hello."

"Marc?" asked Alastair. "I thought you were staying at Hogwarts for the holidays."

"I was going to, but I changed my mind. Good thing too… dunno what the Death Eaters would have done to me."

As the train set off, Oscar watched Alice open her trunk. She yelped and jumped back. Oscar stared in amazement. The black cat was extricating himself from Alice's robes. He shook himself off, and leapt onto Marc's lap, purring.

"Alice? What-"

She had turned bright red. "I swear I didn't mean to!" she gasped. "I didn't realise, Merlin's beard… he'll have to come all the way to Hogwarts."

"Is this your cat?" asked Marc. "What's his name?"

"I don't know, I don't know. He's a stray; he must have climbed inside my trunk."

"He'll need a name now; you'll have to register him as your pet."

Alice gazed at the cat. "Seaweed," she decided. Marc choked.

"Seaweed?"

"Because of his eyes."

Alastair started to laugh. The sound was odd on their ears. Pretty soon, the four of them were in hysterics.

Harry was having a great day. He'd been fed pumpkin pasties, stroked and scratched, and given a new name. _Seaweed!_ He couldn't fault his sister's taste. If he hadn't been a cat, he would have laughed.

The train jerked to a halt, startling the passengers.

"Why are we stopping?" asked Oscar, fear in his voice. "We can't be there yet."

From down the train, there was banging and shouting. Luna came running in.

"They're taking the muggle-borns off the train!"

Marc turned white as a sheet.

It took them a while for them to reach their compartment, but eventually three hooded men entered.

"Names," he said gruffly.

"Alastair, Oscar and Alice Potter."

"Luna Lovegood."

"M-Marc Fiasco."

Two of the men exchanged glances.

"You're wanted."

"Going to lock me in Azkaban with the rest of the muggle-borns?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," sneered the man. "You're no mudblood."

His companions grabbed at him, but Marc wrenched his arms away.

"I'll come quietly," he said with as much dignity as he could muster. Harry found himself pushed off his friend's lap. Marc nodded to the compartment, and walked sedately out, silent tears running down his face.

They only saw the scale of the damage at dinner, at least a third of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had vanished. Slytherin was still as full as ever. Alastair sat with the fifth years, and glared at the new headmaster, an oily looking man in Death Eater robes. He had introduced himself earlier as Professor Snape. He leaned in towards his friends.

"I've been thinking," he said in a low voice. "Perhaps we should be putting the room of requirement to a better use than parties."

His friends stared at him in blank shock.

"Gather a few people, trustworthy ones. Tell them there's a meeting in the room at six o'clock on… Thursday."

They nodded. Alastair looked back at the staff table. Snape's eyes seemed to be searching the Hufflepuff table. He wondered who he was looking for.

As a cat in Hogwarts, Harry could pretty much do as he liked. He spent hours sleeping, or chasing mice, but also spent days at a time scouring the castle for the horcrux. At night he slept on Alice's bed, but he had also managed to build up a store of 'equipment'. He'd 'borrowed' a set of robes from each house, as well as a bag and several textbooks. He could pass himself off as anyone he wanted… within reason. Tonight, he was preparing his disguise as a first year Hufflepuff boy. With a few flicks of his wand, he was read-headed and about two feet shorter. He frowned, there was still nothing he could do about his eyes, and they were very distinctive. He would just have to risk it. He stuffed a couple of first year books into his satchel; if he got caught he could say he was going to the library. He scurried along in the typical first year manner until he reached the tapestry, and then, remembering Alice's instructions in October, paced up and down three times.

_I need to find the place where the meeting will be held._

As before, the door appeared, and he slipped inside. It was a spacious room, packed with at least thirty or forty students, but, as he'd hoped, the only other first year was Alice. He sat next to her.

"Hello,"

"Hi,"

"I'm Barney."

"Alice."

They shook hands.

"Okay, listen up people!" called Alastair, clapping his hands together. "Now, as you will be aware, our new _headmaster_ is a Death Eater, and a slimy git."

Chuckles ran around the room. Harry did not laugh.

"Because of that, I thought that maybe we should set up an organisation to oppose him."

There was a general murmur of agreement. Harry knew that Severus had placed two Death Eaters in teaching posts, and that they already had a reputation for violence.

"When do we start?" called a seventh year.

"Um, now I guess," said Alastair. He glanced back at the seventh years. "We'll need a leader."

"You called the meeting," said a Ravenclaw girl. "You should do it."

"I'm only a fifth year!"

"So?" said a boy. "I'm sixth year, and I don't see a problem. Lisa's right, you should do it."

"Um, okay," Alastair was now as red as his hair. "And we need a name, any ideas?"

There was a few minutes of muttering, then Luna got to her feet.

"Neville's Army."

"But what about Harry?" Ginny called. "He died too."

"Harry and Neville… mused a fourth year. Harry and Neville's Defence System? Or HANDS for short."

"Yeah," said a girl. "That's a good idea."

Harry was trying very hard to keep a hold on himself. Blushing could give the game away. instead he sat tight, and watched as Alastair started handing out instructions.

"That's my brother," Alice whispered. Harry turned in surprise. She spoke with a kind of pride that no-one in the family had ever associated with Alastair.

"What was your name again?" asked Alice, as people began leaving.

"Barney," he muttered, staring at Alice. She looked so different from this vantage point, he was used to looking so down on her. She seemed to be studying him.

"You look like my brothers"

"Oh,"

"Somewhere between Alastair and Harry," she decided.

"Which one was Harry? Was he in here?" Harry asked, glancing around the room.

"No, he was the one who died," she said softly, a face like stone.

"Oh,"

At last it was there turn to leave the room, but Harry found that he didn't want to leave Alice just yet.

"May I walk you to your dormitory?" he asked her.

"If you like. Do you know where it is?"

He shrugged, and took her hand.

"My friends will be waiting," she protested lamely.

"We met in the library," he told her. "I won't come in, I just… I'm new here."

"Oh, I see. Durmstrang or Beauxbatons?"

"Neither. Mum taught me at home."

"You weren't in class earlier."

"No."

"Um, here we are," said Alice at last. As if they were psychic, two girls poked their heads around the wooden door. Their mouths fell open when they spotted Harry, and then they started giggling.

"See you tomorrow?" she asked.

"Sure, the library. Six?"

"Yeah."

He gave her a brief hug, and strode away, trying to ignore the giggles. She was his _sister_, for crying out loud! If only they knew… he transformed as soon as he turned a corner, even though it would disintegrating his disguise. Ah well, he could reapply it later.

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he hurtled head first into another cat. He mewed in apology, but did a double take, and skidded to a stop. That was no cat.

The two of them turned. The other animagus was a tabby cat, with strange markings around her eyes. In an instant she hissed and leapt at him. He didn't fight back, he had a feeling it would be futile. She dragged him by the scruff of the neck, and flung him in a nearby office. She tossed him across the room, and transformed into Professor McGonagall, slamming the door shut.

"I know what you are," she said, drawing her wand. "But there are no black cats on the animagus register. If you don't transform, I will have to use force."

Harry was shaking, he was about to be discovered. He tightened his hind muscles, ready to pounce…

"Oh no you don't," she said, and flicked her wand.

Harry let out a hiss that turned into a yelp as pain shot through his body. He grabbed his wand as quickly as possible.

"Now who have we here…" her face drained of colour. She opened her mouth, but Harry pounced.

"Silenco!"

He caught the professor as her knees gave way, and helped her to an armchair.

"Please, please don't scream, Professor, half the school will come running."

She nodded weakly, and Harry removed the spell.

"Potter!" she whimpered. "But you…"

"I know,"

"You died! Oh Harry, you died, and there was a funeral, and your parents… your parents! Do they know? They were devastated!"

"I know, I was there. They think I'm a lovable stray."

McGonagall thought a moment. "Filius was telling me about a new cat… exactly how long have you been Miss Potter's pet?"

"Only a few days. They don't know, Professor, about me. It's too dangerous, if Voldemort knew I was alive…"

The idea was too terrible to comprehend.

"And how long have you…"

"Since the summer. Dad taught me."

She nodded solemnly. She was a lot calmer now.

"You died," she whispered again. "I saw your body."

"I woke up," he said, and suddenly, finally, the reality of what had happened to him and his family hit him. He sank to the floor, unable to fight his tears. "I was in my coffin, good Godric, they think I'm dead."

He was shaking now. He leant against McGonagall, who put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He got up a moment later.

"I've been disguising myself as a Hufflepuff first year, a new boy. I met Alice earlier, told her my mother had taught me at home. I…" he gulped. "I would appreciate it if you would help back me up. I'm trying to finish the work Neville and Dumbledore started, so I don't think it would be a very good idea if Sev- I mean, Snape found out."

"No," she murmured, not noticing Harry's slip of the tongue. "I will summon the heads of houses. You'd better get your disguise ready. I'm sure Pomona will be delighted to have you in her house."

The girls were waiting for her in the dormitory, and pounced as soon as she entered, giggling like Gryffindors.

"So…" said Mandy. "What's his name?"

Alice rolled her eyes, resigning herself to interrogation.

"His name is Barney, he's a Hufflepuff, and we met in the library."

"He's handsome," remarked Lydia.

"He seemed clever," said Alice. "I don't understand why he's not a Ravenclaw."

"How come we never noticed him before?" asked Jayne, regret in her voice. "And why did _you_ have to spot him first?"

"I'm not planning on dating him! You're welcome to him!"

"Now I know you're lying!" declared Mandy. "What do you think, Leah?"

Leah thought carefully.

"When he was stood next to you," she said slowly. "You could well have been brother and sister."

"What!" the four of them cried.

"Didn't you notice? He had your eyes, Alice, exactly your eyes. He's the spitting image of your mother in that picture."

Alice grabbed the photo. Holy mother of Ravenclaw… she was right.


	9. February

**February**

Harry was in the library with Alice, Evie, Iris, and some other first years. They had all accepted him rather well. He had told them he had been tutored at home, and then suddenly orphaned. They didn't ask too many questions, a lot of people disappeared these days. All of a sudden, a shadow appeared over the book he was pretending to read.

"Mr Evans," said a voice. "A word, if you please."

A number of people gasped. Severus Snape was standing over them. Harry nodded, and followed him into the corridor.

"Barney," he said when they were alone. "I heard… I heard some of the teachers talking about what happened to your family. Are you alright? What were they after?"

"I'm not sure, but mum was a muggleborn, so…"

"I see."

"Did you take part in the raid?"

"No! No, Barney, I promise you."

"But you've done raids before."

He didn't deny it. Suddenly Harry was angry, and he felt all his resentment for the death eaters come flowing through him.

"So it all comes down to one thing," he hissed, not trying to hide the malice in his voice. "Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater. And Death Eaters aren't as heartless as some people think, are they? You stand together. But that makes you all responsible for what the others do. Oh, you can be kind, Severus, but only when you _want_ to be. It doesn't matter if people are being hurt or killed, so long as you and your cosy little friends are safe. Is that why you lost Lily Evans, _Severus_, because she saw you for what you are? A slimy selfish Slytherin snake. A coward. Do you even know what's going on in this school? What happens during 'detention'? Or do you not care that kids as young as eleven are being tortured? No wonder Lily Evans kept running."

And with that he turned on his heel, and strode away. But when he glanced back, he could have sworn he saw a single, solitary tear rolling down the headmaster's cheek.

The others had been immensely relieved when Harry had stormed, unscathed back into the library. They had badgered him for days about the incident, but he had refused to speak about the matter, and eventually they dropped it.

Tonight Harry was in a hurry. He had spent the last few days as a cat, and was now desperate to spend a night in a proper bed, but curfew was less than five minutes away, and he didn't want to risk revealing his identity by transforming. He broke into a run, sprinting down the stairs. He was practically flying, until without warning someone grabbed him from behind. He slipped, and everything went black as his head hit the solid stone steps.

Oscar hurried into the room of requirement, and tried to sit inconspicuously at the back next to Alice. Alastair glared at him briefly for being late, but didn't press the matter. Alice, Oscar noted, was looking distinctly unhappy.

"Hey, Lissy," he whispered. "What's up?"

She ignored him, pretending to listen carefully to what Alastair was saying. Something about the great hall, the Carrows, and the dungeons. When he looked back, Alice was blinking to keep the tears out of her eyes. He took her wrist, and dragged her into the corridor.

"Lissy what's happened?"

"Barney's gone," she whispered.

"Well well well," said a snide voice. "What have we here?"

Alecto Carrow had rounded the corner, and her face lit up at the prospect of devising a punishment for two more innocent students.

"What do you want?" snapped Alice, and Oscar could have sworn her eyes were glowing. "We haven't done anything wrong."

"You know, I don't like your tone, _Lissy_. Perhaps I should take both you Potters, and…"

"You will do no such thing," said a cool voice, and Snape stepped out of the shadows. "That will do, Alecto, I will take care of the Potter children."

He made a shooing motion with hands, and Alecto prowled away grumbling.

"It would be wise to return to your dormitory, Mr Potter. Miss Potter, I would like a word."

Oscar pretended to scarper, but as he rounded the corner he stopped, wondering what Snape could possibly want with his sister.

"-noticed the absence of your friend, Barney Evans, and was wondering if you knew his whereabouts?"

"No," she said miserably. "He disappeared."

"He can't have disappeared into thin air."

"Anyone can with the- I mean, Professors Carrow around."

There was silence, and then Snape said: "Do these disappearances happen often?"

"Sometimes."

There was more silence, then a deep sigh. "Thank you for that information, Miss Potter. Your brother is listening from around the corner; perhaps he would be kind enough to escort you to your common room. And that will be five points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter, for eavesdropping."


	10. March

**The final chapter approaches, as does my next story. There are only a few chapters left now, so I will get them typed up ASAP. Please let me know what you think.**

**March**

Harry Potter woke with a gasp to find himself in a dark, cold room. As he coughed and spluttered, he was vaguely aware of screaming coming from somewhere close by. A girls voice, no, a woman's, but none of the teachers at Hogwarts. He pushed himself upright with surprising ease, then realised that he looked like an eleven year old boy. He was sat in a bare concrete cell, quite alone, but the door was open, suggesting that the woman who'd screamed had fled. Harry tried to stand up, but this was pushing his body too far, and he collapsed back onto the floor. Soon the woman who had screamed returned, accompanied by a few men, squealing away in a high pitched voice.

"He was dead! He had a broken neck! I brought him all the way down here, and suddenly he just gasps, and…"

"Calm down, Cissy," drawled a male voice. "Let's take a look at him."

The man crouched down beside Harry, checking for injuries.

"Hmm, a Hufflepuff… blood status?"

"Half blood," Harry squeaked.

"Yes, that's what they all say."

"We had no problem with his blood status, Lucius," cackled another voice, and a chill ran down Harry's spine. Amycus Carrow. "But the boy didn't appear at Hogwarts until Christmas. My cousin's kid is a first year Slytherin, and she swore that she'd never seen him before January."

"So? What do we care? A little first year brat, who for some reason started late at Hogwarts. What does that matter?"

"There's something strange about him," insisted the one named Cissy. "He was dead! Alecto told me he fell down the stairs, he should be dead!"

"Well we can solve that easily," said Amycus coldly. "Avada kedavra!"

There was a flash of green light, and Harry cried out in pain. His vision blurred, and he almost fainted, but he fought to cling on to consciousness. After a few minutes, the world stopped spinning, and he could sit up again. The death eaters backed away.

"Avada kedavra!" cried Amycus again, twice, three times… every time Harry was hit with the curse, it took him less time to recover, until eventually Harry barely noticed it. It took a while for Amycus to tire though.

"Take him below," he snarled to Cissy, storming away. The woman gathered him in her arms, and carried him down a flight of stone steps, where another corridor of concrete cells stretched out before them.

"Draco!" she called.

There was a scuffling sound, and a boy appeared. He looked sullen, and dirty, and was dressed in rags, but it was unmistakeably…

"Marc?" Harry croaked.

Marc looked terrified, but nodded.

"Take this boy to an empty cell," commanded Cissy. Marc gave a slight nod in obedience, and took Harry into his arms. Up close, Harry could see scars on his cheeks.

"There are no empty ones left."

"Then put him in with a mudblood."

Marc nodded again, and Cissy strode away.

"I'm so sorry," sobbed Marc in a low voice. "Don't worry, I'll look after you. I'll put you in with Hermione, she's okay."

Harry was carried into the nearest cell, and sighed when he saw the other occupant. Marc set Harry down, and he caught his breath as a searing pain raced across his chest.

"Are you hurt?" asked Granger. Marc pulled apart Harry's robes and swore.

"Holy mother of Ravenclaw…"

Harry's chest was coated in lightning shaped scars; it looked like he had been completely sliced up with a knife.

"What's your name?" asked Granger, but Harry ignored her and turned away.

"Marc, what are you doing here? Why aren't you locked up like the rest of us? I thought you were a muggleborn."

"No I'm not, I'm the jailer. I don't know how I knew you, but I may as well explain…" he took a deep breath.

"I grew up in a muggle orphanage, and entered Hogwarts as a muggleborn. The sorting hat was the first to tell me that I wasn't, and offered me a choice of Slytherin or Ravenclaw. I chose Ravenclaw for, you know, obvious reasons. But then the death eaters show up, and I expect them to lock me up with the rest, but it was much, much worse."

Tears filled his eyes. "They told me my name was Marc Lloyd Fiasco, but it was an _anagram_! Rearrange it, and you get Draco Lucius Malfoy."

"No way,"

"Yeah, the Malfoys are my parents. That woman you just met was my mother, and Lucius was my father. God I hate them. Now I'm stuck here. 'Obey or die' they said." He took another deep breath, and turned to Harry. "What's your name?"

Harry burst into tears, he couldn't help himself. "Barney Evans."

Marc smiled weakly. "If you're going to make up a name, you should be a bit more original.

"I- I can't tell you," sobbed Harry. "If Voldemort finds out I'm alive… the others already know something's up…"

Marc and Granger both gasped.

"You said the Dark Lord's name?" gasped Marc.

"Neville, is that you?" whispered Granger.

He shook his head.

"Wait a minute…" said Marc, gripping Harry's chin. Those eyes… it's Harry!"

"Keep it down!" hissed Harry. "And don't tell anyone!"

"But how are you here? Is Nev…"

"Neville's dead, and my name is Barney! Please, Marc!"

"Okay, does anybody else know?"

"McGonagall and a cat. No-one else."

Marc, Harry quickly decided, was the nicest jailer ever. He seemed to manage to spend five minutes each day talking to each prisoner, giving them little tit bits of news.

"The Dark Lord's out of the country until tomorrow," he told Harry and Hermione. "But there's plans afoot to present you to him Barney, when he returns. They want to make a Death Eater of you, you could be a valuable weapon. I'm not sure what they'll do when you refuse, starve you into submission, probably. I'll smuggle you food when I can, but I can't work miracles. I've got other news as well," he said in a darker tone. "Two Death Eaters called yesterday, to deliver the Dark Lord's snake, Nagini."

"Harry froze, and stared at Marc. "You sure? Where is it now?"

The answer turned Harry's blood to ice. "Next door. They fed it a muggleborn last night."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go and kill it?"

Marc gave a small smile. "You will probably want this."

"My wand!"

"Sh! I told you I'd find it!"

Harry took his wand, and got to his feet.

"Barney," Marc hadn't moved. "I know, when I see that look on your face, that I can't do anything to save your mind, but the first thing I learned when my parents tried to teach me unforgivable curses is that you've really got to mean it. I couldn't mean it enough, I didn't want to, so I ended up on guard duty. It takes powerful emotion, a bit like a patronus."

Harry nodded solemnly, and opened the cell door. He tiptoed to the one next door.

"Alohomora!"

The snake was sleeping, and it filled the whole cell. It could wake up any moment, there was no time to lose…

One of its eyes snapped open.

"_What is this?"_ said a smooth, sibilant voice. _"What are you doing here?"_

With a yelp of horror, Harry leapt back. He could understand the snake.

"_Are you Nagini?"_ he tried to say, but instead a low hiss escaped his mouth.

"_Yesss… how do you speak my tongue? Where is my master?" _

Harry raised his wand.

"_Are you going to kill me, mudblood?" _

That did it. At the word _mudblood_ Harry's anger peaked, and he attempted to put all his anger, bitterness and resentment into the curse he now flung at the snake.

"Avada kedavra!"

Nothing happened. The snake reared up to strike…

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Still nothing, then snake lunged….

A streak of green light almost grazed Harry's shoulder and engulfed the snake. For a moment it glowed green with bright, deadly energy, and then it disintegrated into black smoke. Harry spun around to see his saviour.

"Severus?"

The man's black eyes were glinting dangerously.

"Come with me, Evans."

Harry dived back inside his cell, and dragged Marc and Hermione out too. Severus clung onto Harry's arm, and they apparated away.


	11. April

**Dear any remaining readers…**

**The journey is almost over. This chapter isn't a big one, but don't worry, the big conclusion will be here soon.**

**I would also like to announce that my next work is in the drafting stages, and is to be titled: 'The Power of the Fourth'. More details to come.**

**But for now, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**April**

They stayed in the hospital wing for a week, and then Hermione 'escaped', and Marc and Barney went back at school. They never told anyone what had happened, although lots of people asked. Alice hadn't been allowed into the hospital wing, although she pleaded with Madame Pomfrey. She had thought that returning to school would have been suicide, but the Carrows had been driven out of the school by HANDS, and had been replaced by two others. They were big, beefy, and even crueller than the Carrows, but they didn't know Marc and Barney.

She didn't see him a lot in the weeks that followed. He did meet her in the library once, where he told her he had been 'rescued', but refused to elaborate on the matter. She was worried about him, but wasn't the only one.

"It's all very strange," Evie whispered to her in potions. "He'll disappear for days at a time. The boys said he doesn't even go back to the dormitory to sleep. He just turns up once in a while, scoffs himself at dinner, crashes for the night, and then takes off in the morning."

"Don't the teachers notice?"

"They don't seem to care. They just let him get on with it. I suppose they think he's traumatized or something, but he doesn't seem to be grieving."

Marc had been excused lessons for a while as well, and also seemed worried.

"If he's leaving the castle, it will be his fault if he's caught by the Death Eaters again, they won't be so merciful next time."

On the plus side, Seaweed had come back. Alice knew he was a stray, and she couldn't expect him to be around all the time, but it was nice that he was there. She wondered if Barney was a stray too.

Harry was seriously annoyed. He had combed the castle from top to bottom looking for the diadem, and there was no sign of it. He was beginning to understand why it was so famously known as 'lost'. He paced up and down the Hufflepuff common room, thinking. He had even approached Flitwick for advice, but he had insisted that no-one had seen it in living memory. _In living memory…_ He had an idea, but how to find her…

That night, he went to dinner, and sat on his own, waiting.

"Um, Mr Friar?" he called, as the ghost floated nearby.

"Yes, my boy?"

"I was wondering, who's the ghost of Ravenclaw tower?"

"Why, the grey lady, of course. That's her over there."

"Ta."

Leaving his dinner half-eaten, he hurried in the direction the Fat Friar was pointing. The ghost of a beautiful woman was floating through the wall. He used the nearby door, and followed her through a corridor. She heard him behind her, and tensed.

"Who's there?"

"No-one," said Harry, thinking fast. "Just us ghosts.

She sneered at him, "You are no ghost, mortal, but…" she frowned, "you have an aura of death around you. What's your name?"

"Harry Potter."

She gasped. "So it's true. I heard a rumour that you faced death and turned away."

"What?"

"You do not die when you are killed. Your life force is tied to another's. As long as Tom Riddle lives, so do you."

"Tom Riddle?"

"That was his name, before he became Lord Voldemort."

Harry considered this. "So… as long as Voldemort lives, so do I?"

"Correct. If Riddle were to die though, that would put your life in terrible danger."

"Like a puppet on a string," mused Harry darkly. "Never mind that, what do you know about the lost diadem of Ravenclaw?"

"Nothing," she said too quickly, and blushed.

"Please," he said softly. "It's important, I'm trying to finish what Neville started, to bring down Voldemort."

She composed herself, staring at him haughtily.

"When I lived, my name was Helena Ravenclaw."

"Rowena Ravenclaw' daughter."

"Yes, I already told the Longbottom boy about the diadem, but evidently he failed to find it. I stole the diadem from my mother, and hid it in a forest in Albania."

"Albania," said Harry thoughtfully. "Go on."

"But fifty years ago, Tom Riddle managed to persuade me to tell him also," she whispered. "He took the diadem, and hid it somewhere in this castle, but I do not know where. I am afraid I cannot help you any further."

Harry's heart fell. This had been his last chance.

"Thank you, but are you sure you've no idea-"

"None, but its power has been corrupted. Once you pass through the veil of life and death, you are more sensitive than ever to the evil in the world. My mother's diadem has been subjected to dark magic, but, having no physical form, there is nothing I can do to seek it out."

She considered him. "You have passed through the veil. You have the power. But I cannot teach you to use it." She began to drift away. "Good luck, Harry Potter."

"No, wait!" he cried, but she was gone. He turned away miserably, and checked his watch. There was another HANDS meeting tonight, but he wasn't going to go. He had no reason to make trouble for Severus, there were other ways to fight Voldemort.

The inspiration struck in the middle of the night, as he was lying awake in his Hufflepuff bed. It was so sudden he jerked bolt upright. It was simple, obvious, he couldn't believe that he'd been so stupid…

He glanced out the window, there were still a couple of hours until dawn. He slid out of bed, and dressed in the dark, trying not to wake the other boys. He crept along the cold corridors, eventually reaching the tapestry.

_I need to find he place where the diadem of Ravenclaw is hidden._

The door appeared on the third time he passed. Harry flung it open, and gasped.

The room had transformed into a labyrinth of junk. Old broomsticks, banned items, experiments gone wrong… a thousand guilty secrets of past generations.

"Accio diadem!" Harry called, but no tiara came flying through the air towards him. Either the diadem wasn't here, or… he sighed, and started to search manually.

Hours passed. From the statue in the Ravenclaw common room he knew what the diadem looked like, but it was very small and dainty, nearly impossible to locate amongst the mounds of junk. But as he rounded another corner, his seeker's eyes spotted something small and shiny…

At first, he thought it was just another old snitch, but as he looked properly he could see the silver gleam beneath centuries of tarnish, and there were sapphires set into its curved, slender shape.

He had done it. He had found the horcrux.

He reached out a trembling hand, and picked the tiara up. It was light, and cool. If it was polished and pristine, Harry could imagine it would be very beautiful, but now it repulsed him. The Grey Lady was right, it reeked of dark magic. As he gripped the thin metal he felt an uncontrollable urge to snap it. He tried, but the metal was unyielding. As he gripped it, he could have sworn he felt movement, a pulse throb from the glistening stones.

He pocketed the horcrux with fumbling fingers. He couldn't destroy it here, he would have to wait. He still hadn't thought up a way to get into Severus's office to steal the sword.

As the thought formed in his mind, a tunnel opened in the wall. Harry sighed. Well of course it would do that…


	12. May

**So this is it! Isn't it? Almost.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or Alice in Wonderland.**

**May**

_Voldemort knew._ Harry could feel it; a nagging sensation in the back of his mind that told him Voldemort had started to wonder about his horcruxes. It had started with the destruction of the snake, and the anxiety had grown. Now he was going to look for them. Harry leapt from his Hufflepuff bed, and searched the small pile of robes. He quickly found what he was looking for, a fake galleon that had been presented to him by Hermione, which showed he was a member of HANDS. Pulling out his wand, he carved a message onto the surface.

_Voldemort is coming. Be ready. Room of requirement, 8 am._

The coin glowed as the message was transmitted through the school. HANDS was the best hope there was. None of the adults seemed to have the stomach to fight Voldemort anymore. Harry often felt guilty. He shouldn't have run away, he should have been a rallying point for the resistance. But then how would he have been able to complete his mission? He knew the time to reveal himself was near, but he didn't want to do it quite yet. He still had a few hours until morning, so he scrambled back onto his bed, and attempted to come up with a believable cover story to tell the other members of HANDS.

The room of requirement was in uproar when he arrived. The students were nervous and panicked, they knew it was risky skipping lessons to do this, and were terrified with the prospect of confronting Voldemort. Alastair was stood up the front, trying to bring some degree of order.

"ALRIGHT!" he yelled at last. "For the LAST time, I did not send that message. If the person who did would like to step forwards, he can lead today's session. But I'm warning you, if it was a prank, or a trick…"

"It was nothing of the sort," said Harry, stepping out of the shadows. Alastair gaped.

"Wait- you're that first year kid, the one who was kidnapped a while ago. Barry, isn't it?"

"Pretty much," he chuckled. "But there are more important things to worry about. Voldemort is on his way, and we have to prepare."

"How do you know this?"

"I'm not really a student here, some of you may have guessed that much. I… gather information, and I have recently been discovered that Voldemort will be attacking the school."

"Why?" called a Ravenclaw. "He already has Hogwarts under his thumb. He doesn't need an army to get in here."

"He won't just want to get in, by the time he gets here, he'll want revenge. A while ago, Voldemort hid an item here in the school. He also hid other similar objects across the British Isles, but they have all been destroyed. You have Neville to thank for that, and your- your brother."

"Harry?"

Harry nodded. "He destroyed two of the items, and Neville and Dumbledore took care of the rest. Thanks to Harry, the object in the castle no longer exists, so Voldemort's attack will be fruitless. Unfortunately, that has a habit of making him more bloodthirsty. He _will_ take his revenge, and you will either have to fight him or die."

"Who are you?" asked Alastair. "Do you work for the order?"

"The order of the phoenix crumbled with everything else when Neville died. That was Dumbledore's biggest mistake, he pinned all his hopes on one boy. Easiest thing in the world for Voldemort to destroy his plans."

"When will he get here?"

"Nightfall, probably. He has to stop off at some other places first, but by the time he gets here he will be baying for blood. We need to defend the castle."

"You have a plan?"

"Sort of, but it's your army. You should take charge."

"It's your plan."

"No, this is a show of your hard work. I have other things to do. Now, if you'll please excuse me, I have to speak to McGonagall."

Oscar partnered himself with Alice, and under instruction from the upper years, they began to help place the protective enchantments around the castle.

"Are you frightened?" she asked him, as they ducked out of sight from a group of Slytherins.

"No," he said obstinately. She smiled knowingly at him.

"Me neither."

Alastair did anything possible to keep himself busy. He spent most of the day rushing around the castle, both delegating tasks, and making sure he got his hands dirty. The kid Barney had managed to get most of the teachers to help without Snape's knowledge, and they were responsible for casting the most powerful spells. He kept going all day, without even a small break. He was afraid that if he stopped, he'd break down completely.

Harry was feeling strangely calm. They were ready as they would ever be, and if his plan worked, Voldemort would never even reach the castle.

xxx

The first signs of an attack came when the moment the sun dipped below the horizon. Harry stood on the battlements, watching as the mass of black smoke formed outside the boundaries to the school. He raised his wand, and shot gold sparks into the sky, that blared like klaxons. It was the signal, and he saw the members of HANDS take their positions. He desperately hoped they wouldn't need to use them. He got his own wand ready, and prepared to make as dramatic an entrance as possible. He needed the death eaters to notice him. Thankfully he had found just the spell in a very old book tucked away in the back of the library.

The death eaters had got past the enchantments, and were walking sedately up the front lawn. Inside the castle people were beginning to realise what was happening, and panic. Some of the older students were trying to lead the younger students away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a black stream of smoke fly out of the window of the headmaster's office. He waited until they got within cursing gaze of the castle…

"LUNINIS VOLATUM!"

His magically amplified voice rang out across the grounds, and he jumped over the side of the battlements, bathed in a golden light which cushioned his fall. He jumped up, and pulled out his wand, in plain sight of all the death eaters. And there, in the centre of it all, was Tom Riddle himself.

"So Voldemort, we meet again."

"Barney?" said a surprised voice to Voldemort's right. "What-"

"Step away from him, Severus, it's not worth it."

He heard a ripple of whispers behind him. Apparently they had an audience who were very curious as to how a first year got on first name terms with the headmaster.

"But-"

"I said, _step away_."

"How amusing," said the high cold voice of Lord Voldemort. "Get out of our way, boy."

"You won't find it," he said smugly. "The diadem has been destroyed, along with the others."

Voldemort snarled, his temper flaring up. He pulled out his wand.

"Avada kedavra," he said lazily.

"No!" cried Alice as there was a flash of green light, but when it cleared, Harry was still standing. Voldemort's eyes widened.

"That won't work on me, Tom," he said grimly. "I discovered that the first time we met. Now, Severus, come away."

Severus walked forwards, skirting around Harry, and hurrying up the steps to the castle.

"Explain yourself," snarled Voldemort.

"I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir, because I'm not myself you see."

The dumbfounded look on Voldemort's face turned to one of outrage. "Stop talking in riddles! Who are you?"

"Your worst nightmare," he whispered. "A dead man walking. You killed me once before, Tom, but in doing so you tied my life to yours. As long as you live, so do I."

"Give me a name?"

"Which one? I have a few," he chuckled. "Currently I'm known as Barney Evans, although I did spend a fair amount of time as Seaweed the cat." He laughed again. "Bless Alice's boots, she was so sweet."

More whispers.

"You made a mistake, Tom. A big mistake. You thought Neville was the boy from the prophecy, but in the attack on his home, you never even got to the boy. Years later, even Dumbledore believed that Neville would be the one to destroy you. And I have to admit that he came pretty close, he destroyed a lot of the horcruxes. But all the while there was another boy, one who was also born at the end of July, whose parents had defied you three times. You remember every person you've ever killed, Tom Riddle. Look into my eyes, and tell me who I really am."

The red irises met the green ones. As if pushed, Voldemort reeled backwards, screaming.

"HARRY POTTER?"

There was deathly silence, then Harry held up his wand.

"Finite incantatum!"

The transfiguration spells he had cast disintegrated, and he grinned at Voldemort. The crowd took two steps backwards

_Harry, _they were murmuring. _Harry… Harry Potter… he's alive… the kid that died…_

"Well then," said Voldemort, "All people have a weak spot, and fortunately I know precisely what yours is…"

He flicked his wand, and Alice was dragged forwards. She screamed, staring at Harry.

"I'd be careful, if I were you, Tom. You might not enjoy the consequences of breaking me."

"Avada-"

Harry flung himself in front of Alice, but instead of absorbing the curse, he made it rebound. As it hit Voldemort there was a terrible scream, but not, as people had expected, from Voldemort. Harry was writhing on the ground. Alice knelt down beside him.

"Harry? Harry! Don't die Harry please don't die…"

**Ha ha! A cliffhanger! (Sorry, couldn't resist) Will post the last chapter soon… or not, depending on how generous I feel…**


	13. Epilogue

**Just realised that this story is 13 chapters long! Sorry for all you superstitious folks out there.**

**Epilogue**

Alice Potter locked her trunk, and pinned her head girl badge carefully to her jacket. She picked up her wand and made her bed, still revelling in being allowed to do magic at home. Today she would be apparating straight on to the platform. She was going to Hogwarts for the last time, and had insisted that she did it alone.

The platform was packed, as usual, and she meandered her way through the crowds to the prefect's carriage. Some of the fifth years were there already; they were always the most eager ones. The settled herself in the corner, quiet as always. Once upon a time, Alice Potter had been the most talkative girl at Hogwarts. All that had changed. Today she was considering her family.

Oscar was now on his second year out of Hogwarts, and had made it onto the starting team of Puddlemere United. The Quidditch columns were hailing him as the most promising keeper of his generation.

Alastair was a top Auror, having passed his training with flying colours. It was rumoured that he was tipped to become the youngest head of the Auror department ever.

Even her parents were getting on with their lives. James had recently made ground breaking discoveries in the animagi field, although she didn't know that much, as it was supposed to be top secret research. Meanwhile, Lily had started her own brand of potion suppliers.

And Harry… he was out there somewhere. She was sure of it.

When the train pulled out of the station, she helped the head boy hold the customary prefect's meeting, and then patrolled the corridors for a few hours. When they arrived at Hogwarts, she helped point the first years towards Hagrid, but before she could take her place at the Ravenclaw table, she was intercepted by Professor McGonagall.

"Miss Potter? A word, if you please."

She was led up to the headmistress's office, and told to enter; there was someone who needed to speak to her. Alice went in alone.

"Al?"

Alastair was standing there in his Auror robes.

"Hi," he said quietly, and then took a seat. She did the same.

"We found Harry."

She jerked her head up sharply, her brilliant green eyes focused entirely on him.

"He's gone, Alice," he choked out. "He was found on some train tracks by Battersea. He killed himself."

"No…"

He nodded. "I saw the body. It's definitely him, and he's definitely dead this time."

"But why would he…"

"He hasn't been the same since Voldemort died, you know that. The healers said that the pain from the destruction of the life bond sent him… well you saw how he was, and then he left, and I knew he wasn't going to come back, he just couldn't cope."

"Who else knows?"

"Just us. I'm going to persuade somebody else to tell our parents, I- I don't think I could manage it."

Alice nodded in understandingly, and the two sat in silence. The wizarding world had been saved, but at what cost? The sanity of their saviour. A lot of people would have said that it was worth it, but Alice wasn't a big believer in the myth of The Greater Good.

The war had cost her a brother.

And a friend.

And the best cat she'd ever known.

THE END

**Dear readers,**

**I want to thank anybody who has stuck with this story until the end. This is one of the few stories I have ever finished, and I would be much obliged if you would tell me what you think.**

**I would also like to offer you a little taster of things to come. If you have read my previous notes, you will be aware that I am working on a Sherlock/HarryPotter crossover. It is now almost complete on paper, and I hope the first chapter will be up shortly. I have decided to change the title to 'A Study in Four', and here is an extract:**

_A Study in Four_

_Summary:__ A friendship that shakes Hogwarts to its core. A Slytherin and a Hufflepuff. A Holmes and a Watson. Add some mysterious disappearances, and you've got yourself a young detective, and a friend who tries to steer him towards some semblance of normality..._

_Extract:_

"… _and he was left-handed."_

"_Left-handed?"_

"_Yes, obviously. Took him down _that _secret passage there, so he had inside knowledge of the school…" he glanced up and caught their expressions. "Oh, and perhaps I should mention that I didn't take him."_

"_But why would we-"_

"_It's a perfectly logical assumption. Strange kid turns up, dissects the crime scene beyond your capabilities. I tried to help out in muggle London once, and managed to get myself arrested by their secret service, but then it's hardly my fault that what looked like a simple murder was actually an assassination… Well don't just stand there gawping, don't you have anything constructive to add? I was told that you men were two of the trio that brought down Voldemort, you must at least have a pair of brain cells between you…"_

**This will hopefully be the first of a long series, and I have started planning an overall arc. So, goodbye for now, and I look forward to receiving your reviews.**

**Hannah.**


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